


Waiting for Fate

by BeelsBae



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Back and Forth Perspectives, But Not Really Because Soulmates!, Fate & Destiny, Gender-Neutral MC, Loneliness, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Obey Me! Secret Santa 2020, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, Soft Diavolo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeelsBae/pseuds/BeelsBae
Summary: A Prince and an exchange student are destined for one another, but doubts and anxieties threaten to keep them apart. A braided narrative in which Diavolo and MC are soulmates struggling to confess their feelings. Luckily, some things are just meant to be. <3
Relationships: Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Diavolo/Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 97





	Waiting for Fate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBestAqua32](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBestAqua32/gifts).



> Written for Ray (TheBestAqua32, always-horny-for-otome-boys on Tumblr!) as part of the Obey Me Secret Santa 2020 gift exchange

The door to Diavolo’s study shuts behind Lucifer, and the Prince finds himself alone with his butler once more. More alone than he probably has any right to feel, Diavolo muses, staring at his nearly empty glass of Demonus. Lucifer made excellent company, and they’d spoken of all manner of things during his visit. But at the end of the day, Lucifer always returns to his brothers, and Diavolo is left to ponder his life of relative solitude. Not that he doesn’t attend regular social outings, both formal as part of his duties as prince, and informal, for personal pleasure. But there’s no one for him to come home to, no constant in his eternal world.

It’s grown wearisome, of late. 

“Barbatos,” Diavolo’s voice is softer than usual. “Do you believe it’s possible to find one person with whom one can be truly happy?” 

“Do you mean, like a soulmate, my Lord?” Barbatos asks. “That is one way in which humans, I believe, speak of it.”

“A soulmate… yes, perhaps.” Diavolo says, thoughtful. “A companion. Someone with whom one can be themselves – or, more than themselves.”

Maybe it was the extra glass of demonus, but it is hitting him harder than usual tonight, that he’s the prince of the realm and without an equal. Even the demon he calls his dearest, most trusted friend keeps him at a distance. Diavolo sighs, turning back from the window to look at his butler.

“Ignore me, Barbatos. I am feeling sentimental this evening.”

Barbatos nods, busying himself with tidying the room, picking up after his young master and his guest. “As you like, my Lord.”

Diavolo settles at his desk, determined to go over some paperwork Lucifer had brought with him. He may have had a bit to drink, but it isn’t as if he can’t sign a few documents and organize a few things for the next morning. But that would require organizing his thoughts, too, and this seems a much more challenging task.

“A soulmate, you say.” Diavolo speaks again, causing Barbatos to stop his work and look up at his lord. Diavolo’s brow is knit, his hands folded together on his desk, an air of loneliness settled about his noble features so securely it almost seems comical. But of course, it isn’t.

“The belief is that each person has a soulmate, someone with whom they are bound more intimately than with any other.” Barbatos says, volunteering further information on the subject of sudden interest.

Diavolo looks down at his hands, thoughtful. “How does one find their soulmate?”

Barbatos chuckles softly, causing the Prince to look up at him. “I did not realize you would take this so seriously, my Lord.”

“I see no reason not to.” Diavolo says, sitting up in his chair with a frown. “There is a bit of truth behind every myth, after all.”

“Perhaps you’re right, my Lord.” Barbatos says in his quiet voice. “Would you like me to look?”

Diavolo blinks at his butler. Surely this is meant as a tease, but if anyone could know his future – and whether there is such a person waiting for him – it would be Barbatos.

“The look on your face tells me you think me to be teasing you.” Barbatos says, his expression becoming more serious. “But I am not. If it would put your mind at ease—”

“No, Barbatos, I won’t trouble you.” 

What Barbatos is offering seems so simple, so easy. But would he discover his soulmate, or instead learn that there is no such person? If it’s the latter, Diavolo thinks, then he’d rather not know. 

“It’s no trouble at all, my Lord.” Barbatos assures the Prince, stepping forward as if to offer his services. “If you wish me to look for them, I will do my best.” 

Diavolo looks up at his butler, suddenly weary again. Perhaps it is enough that he has such loyal friends as this. “No. Thank you, Barbatos.” Diavolo says decidedly. “As I said, I am just feeling sentimental.”

He’s been alone for so long. Barbatos is a good friend, but not someone with whom he can truly be equal. Diavolo had once thought Lucifer could offer him the type of companionship he desires, but that, too, had turned out to be impossible – perhaps it is even his own fault, Diavolo reflects.

 _Tch._ Why has he been so caught up in this thought, lately? Why does it suddenly feel like the world has grown empty, after all this time? No, not empty - expectant, as if it’s making room for something new, something important. For some _one_. As if he’s been waiting all this time, but never quite known it. 

Perhaps doing some work will take things off his mind.

  
“Barbatos, I’d like to look at our plans for the exchange program again.” Diavolo says, shuffling through some of the papers on his desk and quickly signing the few that required his authorization. His pen moves with purpose, quickly and neatly.

“Certainly, my Lord. I will bring the files.”

***

You stumble as whatever powers transported you between realms subsides, and you’re left catching your balance, arms waving, in what can only be described as a hall of some sort. The room is massive, but more intimidating still are the faces that have turned towards you, the looks with something odd, something unnatural in their eyes. The largest of these persons steps forward. His eyes are warm, golden, but they bear the same strange look as the rest – something is _different_ about these strangers.

“Welcome to the Devildom.”

The introductions go by in a blur of unfamiliar faces and names – well, not _entirely_ new names, just strange and sudden enough to make it difficult to keep track of what’s happening. A pair of red eyes here, orange ones there, and teeth that look a little too much like fangs being bared in your direction. _They’re smiling, right?_ You don’t know how to read these new faces. You don’t know what they want from you, but they’re all so focused on your presence that it’s difficult to think through the questions muddled in your head.

“The Devildom…?”

It’s a dream, right? _It has to be._

But it isn’t.

The next few weeks turn into months as you struggle to fit yourself into this new world, to click into place like a piece of some larger a puzzle. Only, you don’t know what the picture on the completed puzzle is supposed to look like. Nonetheless, you flourish, in your own way. You study for your classes at RAD, you learn to cohabitate with your housemates, you even form pacts with a few of them, but…

If there’s one thing that’s been tickling the back of your mind since arriving in the Devildom, it’s been what should have been an easy question: Why _you_? Out of all humans, how were _you_ selected to come to the Devildom?

Unfortunately, it’s a question that no one seems able to answer. Was it the wind that blew in through Lucifer’s open office window, ruffling through the applications, sending them helter-skelter across his desk and onto the floor? Was it Lucifer, who grasped at them in a panic, one gloved hand barely catching the one that just so _happened_ to be yours? Was it Barbatos, who entered the room at exactly that moment to request an update for his Lord on the Avatar of Pride’s progress? Or was it Lord Diavolo, whose impatience seemed to pressure Lucifer into a snap decision that caused him to hand your lightly crumpled application to Barbatos without further thought? Or was it the combination of all these things together that brought you to the Devildom? In other words – was it fate?

You scratch your pen against your notebook and sigh, trying to focus on the history homework in front of you. You should be focusing, studying intently for the upcoming exams, not wondering about pointless things. You bend your head and re-immerse yourself in the text open on the table before you, making a conscious effort to fade out the faint sound of writing instruments and shuffling in the RAD library.

_During this period, preparations began for a significant restructuring of the socio-political structure that had been in place for several millennia, wherein the strictly lineage-based aristocratic system would be demolished in favor of a ranking system based on criteria relating to a demon’s relative power involving certain types of demonic abilities…_

You shuffle, tapping your foot, the words swimming on the page from your own lack of focus. It’s been happening a lot, lately, this unnamable distraction. You’ve find yourself growing increasingly restless as you walk the halls of RAD, as you eat your breakfast with the others at the House of Lamentation, as you drop your bookbag on your desk and fall into your bed at the end of a long day of classes and the various exploits of your housemates. You can’t help but feel that your restlessness is somehow related to this question of _why._ Why _you?_

And yet, your being selected for the student exchange program is a decision for which no one seems willing to take responsibility. Despite your questions, you’ve been told the same thing time and again: Lucifer selected you. No, not for any particular reason, though you seemed to complement the other exchange student nicely, being so _normal_ , and all.

_At this time, diplomatic relations with the Celestial Realm were altered when civil war broke out among the angels, the fallout informing the restructuring in unanticipated ways, resulting in the establishment of several once-Celestial beings holding positions of significant power and responsibility…_

But is it _normal_ to be whisked away to another realm on an overworked demon lord’s whim? Was it _normal_ for Lucifer to do something as important as selecting an exchange student without putting proper care and consideration? Maybe the decision goes back further, to the day packed with council meetings and overdue credit card bills and long grocery lists and on, and on, and on. Maybe, if he would have taken his time, Lucifer wouldn’t have selected you at all. But that would mean it wasn’t _fate_ that brought you here – it was more like an accident.

You sit, staring blankly at the page that you’ve made little progress in reading. The bell chimes, indicating it’s time for you to find Mammon and head back to the House, stirring you to action. You pack your bookbag quickly and quietly, slipping a bookmark into your textbook to save the page.

  
_Still…_ You think as you stand, hiking the strap of the bookbag up on your shoulder. If your being chosen was an accident, then why does it feel like you were _meant_ to be here?

How long has it been since he felt something that moved him in the way you do?

Diavolo paces the floor of his sitting room at the Demon Lord’s Castle, awaiting your arrival. His steps are short, but not too quick, his hands tucked behind his back and his eyes towards the floor. _It’s just tea_ , Diavolo reminds himself. He’s _just_ invited you over for afternoon tea. This is nothing to be so worked up about. He just wants to see how your experience in the program has been so far, to make sure that Lucifer and the others are taking good care of you. Besides, Barbatos will be with the two of you.

Diavolo stops pacing and takes a deep breath, letting it out heavily. Restless. That’s how he’s felt for centuries, millennia, for an eternity of a lifetime that stretches on and on with no designated endpoint. And then… 

You. 

It was immediate. The moment you appeared before him, Diavolo felt his world become whole. His dream to unite the realms – what was it for, but to bring him to you? Of course, peace and cross-cultural understanding are admirable goals for any regent, but now, with you here, Diavolo feels his life’s work is almost complete. 

Almost.

Diavolo hasn’t told you how he feels. You’ve taken some time to adjust to your new surroundings, to the new world in which you suddenly found himself, Diavolo can see that much. More than that, it’s almost as if he can _feel_ it. Sometimes, he thinks, he can sense when you’re near; your emotions, your anxieties, your delights. When you’re close, the rhythm of his heart seems to match yours… though he must be imagining it. But he had not imagined how he felt when he saw you, nor how he feels about you now.

Watching you become part of his world has been captivating, inspiring, even. You’ve only been here a little over a month, but already you’ve managed to climb to the top of your classes, despite the initial shock of your arrival. It hasn’t been long, but it’s been long enough; Diavolo has been steadily falling in love with you since the day he met you and his world became complete.

Diavolo looks up when Barbatos enters with a tray of teacakes. “Barbatos, have you heard from them?”

“Not yet, my Lord. I’m sure they are on their way, however. It wouldn’t be like them to keep you waiting.”

“No, you’re right.” Diavolo says as much to himself as to Barbatos. “It wouldn’t be.”

Lucifer insists on punctuality and, even more so, on the utmost respect for Diavolo, and you seem to have taken this to heart, never leaving him waiting or unanswered when he needs something of you. Part of Diavolo knows that this is probably a result of Lucifer’s strict nature, rather than any particular eagerness on your part. Still, he can’t help but hope that, on some level, you feel it too; the longing to be near one another that keeps him up at night, that makes it difficult to focus on student council meetings, or even to remember to eat breakfast.

“My Lord, our guest has arrived.”

Barbatos’ voice breaks through Diavolo’s thoughts.

“Thank you, Barbatos. Please show them in.”

Diavolo isn’t afraid to tell you how he feels; after all, it’s more than a feeling: it’s fate. He’s made decisions that most would believe to be _far_ more important than a love confession a hundred times over while carrying out his duties to the realm. And once Diavolo’s made up his mind, there’s little that can stop his forward enthusiasm to put said plan into action. But is that what’s best for you? If you don’t return his feelings, wouldn’t a confession merely jeopardize your comfort, and by extent, the entire exchange program? No, he shouldn’t make a move unless he’s certain that his feelings are returned. He’s waited forever; surely he can wait a little longer. 

***

“I’m so glad you could join me this evening.” Lord Diavolo says, welcoming you with a good-natured smile as Barbatos shows you into the sitting room.

Your afternoon tea debriefing sessions with Lord Diavolo are one of the things you’ve come to look forward to since starting your coursework at RAD. You can still remember the first time you’d visited – the luxury of the Demon Lord’s Castle had been almost overwhelming, but Lord Diavolo had made it seem comfortable, somehow. Of course, he’d been behaving a little awkwardly himself, that day, and it had put you at ease to know that this all-powerful demon Prince shared a measure of the social anxiety you, too, had felt.

The Prince gestures to a chair across a small table from his, and you take it.

“Thank you for inviting me, Lord Diavolo.”

Lucifer’s drilled it into you to use his title, and even though you sometimes found it difficult, having grown comfortable with Lord Diavolo, you always make sure to remember the title;

The demon sitting across from you smiles. “Well, then. Shall we talk about your progress in the program?”

“Oh, um, of course.” You reply as Barbatos hands you a cup of tea.

The atmosphere is friendly enough, and the question innocuous as always, but today, you find yourself anxious while answering. It’s not that you haven’t been doing well, either. On the contrary, it was almost like riding a bike – you found the coursework to be approachable in a way that had surprised both you and your instructors. What gives you hesitation, rather, is that nagging uncertainty, that recurring question of why you’re here, and more importantly, why you feel that you _ought_ to be here. No matter how far you proceed in your classes, you can’t help but feel like your efforts are misguided, like the real goal is still far away, and nothing you do seems to bring you closer to the answer you seek. But you’ve asked before and received your response, so there seems little point in belaboring the question.

“Wonderful,” Lord Diavolo says, taking his own cup of tea from the butler. “Let’s begin with your latest exam scores, shall we?”

The conversation is business-like, professional. You find it’s easy to talk to Lord Diavolo one-on-one. He’s focused, intent, and earnest in his care for the exchange program, and it shows in the way he listens to you carefully, occasionally making notes and offering polite suggestions for improving this or that aspect of your performance. It’s friendly and comfortable, and not because he seems any less like a prince, but because you can see what sort of a prince he is: dedicated, caring, and self-assured, trusting in his own ability to lead and counsel.

Eventually, both your cups have been emptied of tea, and Lord Diavolo offers to pour you another. It isn’t out of character, you think, despite the fact that Barbatos is nearby. No, it’s just like him; he wants to pour you a cup of tea, and so he’ll do it. Nothing about Lord Diavolo ever seems hesitant or uncertain.

When Lord Diavolo moves to hand you your refilled cup, you hesitate for a moment. Is this the first time he’s done this for you? Have you ever touched one another before? It’s a weird thing to notice, you think, shrugging off the thought as you reach for your cup.

“Thank yo—”

Your polite reply is stolen from you. As your hands touch Lord Diavolo’s, everything suddenly shifts, tilts, upends itself back into place, like a world finally right-side up. It takes your breath away, makes you dizzy, and when you look to Lord Diavolo for something to ground yourself, it feels like your heart stops. It’s almost like you’re seeing him for the first time.

And you have your answer. _This_ is why you’re here. _This_ is why you were chosen. Lord Diavolo touched you, and it was like you understood everything for the first time. It doesn’t matter who’s responsible for your being chosen, you realize. It could never have been otherwise.

For a moment, you imagine you can still hear Lord Diavolo’s voice, resonant and warm, flowing through your veins like sunshine. But that sensation alone makes no sense, you think, shaking your head as you feel your heart stutter back to life in your chest.

Diavolo begins to doubt – do you not feel it, too? That you belong here, with him? That your souls are searching for one another? Had you not felt the realms fall into order the moment you met?

As the others had grown closer to you, Diavolo had felt himself pulling away, waiting. He hadn’t wanted to influence your relationship too heavily, to force what felt so natural to him but that, for whatever reason, you didn’t seem to feel. So, he engaged with you at student council meetings and social events and sent you the occasional message, usually in a group chat. He has watched you learn to walk, and then to run, navigating the Devildom as if you’d always been a part of it, somehow. But always ever from a distance.

Although there was that one time…

He’d almost thought he’d seen something that day he felt your heart race in his sitting room. But no matter how much his heart aches for you, Diavolo finds himself waiting. Clearly, whatever he is experiencing is somehow different for you. Perhaps he’s wrong. Perhaps what he took for fate was nothing but entitlement, all along.

How selfish. 

Diavolo runs his hands through his hair wearily, glancing over your grade reports. All that’s left is to collect your final paper, and then you’ll no longer be a student at RAD. All that’s left is for you to pack your things, to say your goodbyes, and then you’ll be gone.

“Barbatos.” His voice sounds strained, even to himself.

“My Lord?” 

“I need to know.” Diavolo says. “If they’re the one.”

Barbatos looks his young master in the eyes. “My Lord, I must beg your forgiveness, but I knew the time would come when you would wish to know.”

Diavolo sets aside the documents, giving his butler his full attention. “What are you saying, Barbatos?” 

“My Lord, I have seen all of your possible futures involving this human.” Barbatos begins.

“Please, tell me.” It’s an order phrased as a request.

“There is no timeline in which you are not bound to this human.” Barbatos lays the weight of this knowledge on the Prince’s shoulders gently.

Diavolo looks at his butler; there’s no teasing, no false words of comfort with him. 

“This is but one story, one unfolding of fate in which your paths cross.” Barbatos continues. “You asked me once if I believe in soulmates. I do not have an answer, but one thing is clear to me; you and this human are destined for one another.” 

“Then why have they not felt it, too?” Diavolo asks, his voice rising in desperation. Has he not waited patiently? Has he not _been_ waiting for a thousand human lifetimes? “Barbatos, tell me, why am I alone in this?”

Barbatos considers. What he knows of soulmates says that two destined for one another should have a moment of mutual recognition, a coming together that shows unequivocally that they are meant for each other.

“You are a demon, and they are human,” Barbatos says, resting his chin on his fingers thoughtfully. “It is possible that no two such soulmates have existed before. If that is so, we cannot expect that your relationship will develop in the expected way.”

“What do you mean, Barbatos?” Diavolo asks.

“Perhaps they will feel it in time,” Barbatos says. “Or perhaps they have felt it, but they are not sure how to show it.”

The brief spark of hope that had ignited in Diavolo’s chest at this new thought is quickly extinguished. “No, I do not think that is the case.” He says. You, who talks to him so comfortably, as if you’re equals. Surely you wouldn’t suddenly become reluctant to say what’s on your mind. “If they felt what I felt, they would not be able to keep it to themselves.” Diavolo says more quietly.

“Yet, you have said nothing, my Lord.” Barbatos says, and Diavolo imagines he hears an edge of criticism in his tone.

“Then you think I should tell them.” Diavolo says.

“I only mean to say that perhaps you should not expect the universe to do everything for you.” Barbatos says quietly. “My Lord.”

Diavolo looks at his butler and then at the documents on his desk. Your name graces the top of your grade report. Is that what he’s been doing? Fate has already done so much of the work – it brought you to him, within his reach. And he has waited, trusting that the universe, or destiny, or fate, would bring you closer still.

But he loves you. Already, he loves you. And after all his waiting, he’s running out of time.

Diavolo stands abruptly and grabs his jacket from the back of his chair. “Barbatos, could you hold tea for me?” As he buttons his coat, Diavolo’s fingers slip with his urgency; time has suddenly become so precious. “I’ll be back shortly.” But not alone. No, never again.

“Yes, my Lord.”

***

How long has it been since you’d had tea with Lord Diavolo? Weeks, maybe months? The time has flown by without you realizing: you spend at least a few nights a week with Mammon making extra cash at Hell’s Kitchen; you study with Satan for history on Mondays and practice hex work on Thursdays; you have cooking duty with Beel (to make sure he doesn’t eat everything) twice a week; Levi demands your attention for dungeon grinding every Wednesday; Asmo occupies most of your weekends with shopping or social gatherings; and the rest of your time is spent divided between various chores and outings and coursework.

But your nights have been, ironically, hell. You spend most of them tossing and turning, exhausted and in need of sleep, restless with the knowledge that you’ve found your answer, but that it’s left you with no resolution, no peace.

Because you can’t possibly tell Lord Diavolo how you feel; you’re barely sure of it yourself. What do you and the Prince have in common, anyway? He’s a demon, and you’re a human. He’s lived thousands of lifetimes, and you’ve barely begun yours. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. When he’d touched you, it was like being reborn – everything new. In that moment, Lord Diavolo became the center of your world. An untouchable, unreachable center.

Because he hadn’t felt it. No, Lord Diavolo continued on with your conversation about your coursework as if nothing had happened, as if he saw you the same way he’s always seen you, from the moment he met you. Those warm golden eyes that had suddenly meant so much to you regarded you with the same friendly appreciation they always have.

Next week is your last one as an exchange student. After that, you expect, you’ll be sent back to the human realm. You’ll turn in your paper, pack up your things, and be magically transported in the blink of an eye, left to steady yourself on the sidewalk somewhere in your own neighborhood, in front of a familiar building you used to call home.

You stare at your notebook, where you’ve been outlining your final paper. Lucifer had said it was just a formality, but you’d taken it seriously. After all, you know how seriously Lord Diavolo takes the program, so anything you can say that will help, you’d like to say.

_A Qualitative Evaluation of the One-Year Exchange Program_

  1. _Introduction_


  1. _Section 1: Student Housing_
    1. _Roommate Assignments_
    2. _Accommodations_
    3. _Food and Nutrition_


  1. _Section 2: Coursework_
    1. _Academic Standards_
    2. _Examinations_
    3. _Study Support_


  1. _Section 3: Social Engagement_
    1. _Intercultural Communication_
    2. _Privacy and Personal Space_
    3. _Special Events and Celebrations_



You tap the pen against your lips. It’s hard to concentrate when there’s only one thing on your mind. If you’re going to leave, you’ll never see _him_ again. When you leave, will the pain of being apart dissipate? You hadn’t felt it until you’d come to the Devildom, after all, that feeling like something was missing, undone, incomplete. And then, when you’d touched his hand, all the pieces flew into place, and you were _so certain_ that he was the reason you were brought here. Not so that your paths would cross, but so that they’d unite. Lord Diavolo is your missing piece. Maybe when you leave, the longing will fade. Maybe with time, it will disappear completely.

But you don’t want it to.

Your pen falls from your fingers, and you drop your head heavily into your hands, feeling a tightness in your chest. It’s ridiculous, right? For a human to love a demon? Because you _do_ love him. You may not have told him what you feel, or the way the stars aligned when you’d had tea with him that afternoon, but you’ve been falling in love with him ever since. If only you were brave enough to tell him. If only you could just throw caution to the wind and go up to Lord Diavolo and say everything that you feel, everything that’s been on your heart. If only—

You raise your head from your hands quickly. _That’s it!_

Tearing the page from the notebook, you crumple up your outline and throw it into the wastebasket. You know what you have to do, and it’s _not_ writing a report on your experience in the exchange program. Taking a deep breath, you bring the tip of your pen to the paper.

_Lord Diavolo,_

Your heart thumps in your chest as you write the first words of your letter, but something looks wrong.

 _~~Lord Diavolo,~~ _ ~~~~

_Diavolo,_

Much better. Your pen begins to glide across the paper, painting your feelings onto page after page, until—

A knock.

You look up from your desk, startled. You’d asked to remain uninterrupted while you work, so it must be something important. Turning over the pages on your desk to maintain your privacy, you jump up quickly to go to the door as a second knock, louder than the last, hastens your steps.

And then, before you can reach it, the door opens.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing something like this, but it was an enjoyable challenge! Thank you so much for the opportunity! I am still new to the idea of a soulmate AU, but I wanted to stay along those lines and give it a shot. It’s less of a plot-driven story and more of a gradual realization of sorts, but I hope that it is still something you enjoyed. Happy Holidays, Ray! :)
> 
> Moon Phase Symbolism: 
> 
> New Moon: New Beginnings (Begin with a clean slate and make plans)  
> Waxing Crescent: Set Intentions (Send your hopes and desires into the world)  
> First Quarter: Take Action (Time to push forward; do not waiver)  
> Waxing Gibbous: Refine and Hone (Align your goals with the universe; momentum is building)
> 
> Info from: https://labyrinthos.co/blogs/learn-tarot-with-labyrinthos-academy/moon-phases-meanings-infographic-a-beginner-s-framework-for-following-lunar-rhythms


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